by T. S. Simons
'For me, it was when I saw Luca hold our girls for the first time,' Illy sighed. 'They were premature, as you know,' she said, looking at me. Illy's pregnancy had been high risk. Carrying twins and being so tiny in stature, we had all worried about her. She was enormous, and very unwell. Sorcha had induced the twins early to save them, and they had all spent weeks in the clinic under constant supervision until they were well enough to leave.
'I was lying in the clinic, drugged to the eyeballs, terrified and overwhelmed and wondering what on earth I had done. Across the room, I saw this enormous man in an armchair, with two tiny baby girls, asleep, wrapped in blankets, one in each arm. The look of sheer awe on his face shattered any reservations I had. We were a family. The mother lion in me rose, and that was it.'
Jorja smiled wanly. 'You do understand.'
We sat in silence as we replayed our harsh induction into motherhood. No manuals, no guidance. Just wham! Parent.
'There is one more thing I need to tell you. Then that is it. That is all we know,' Jorja said, pulling me from my trance. She took a deep breath and let it out. 'We found reference to one more full sibling to Scarlett and Ruby. Grown by a surrogate, like us.'
'You said that there were… five,' I gagged on the last word.
Illy placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder and spoke. 'That is true. Five fertilised embryos were created from your sister. But only three were implanted. It was in the medical notes Cam found.'
Illy had no reason to lie to me. The notes Cam had found that proved my parents had damned my sister. The notes that were sitting under my t-shirts in my bedroom dresser. The records I had never read beyond the first page.
'If you destroyed the lab,' Jorja spoke cautiously, and a quick nod from Illy confirmed this, 'then there is only one left.'
'Where?'
'We don't know. We looked. Really, we did. We found no trace on Auckland or Clava. If there is another full sibling to our girls, we would like to know. To meet him or her. It is important to us that these children know each other. But those records were erased before we went looking. There is a record of the child's surrogacy, redacted, of course, and the child is roughly the same age as our girls. But that single record is all we could find. It is possible the child didn't survive the pregnancy or birth or died soon after. But we just want to know.'
Illy and I continued her rounds in silence, jolting along the track. Guilt consumed me. I was supposed to be helping; it was harvest time, the busiest time of the year for her. She had wasted months helping me, and she had brought me along today to help, not to wallow in self-pity.
'What will you do?' she asked as we reached a smooth section of road.
'Do?'
'Do you want to find the other child?'
I had thought of nothing else for the past few hours but still had no clue.
'Let me summarise,' Illy said in her typically forthright manner. 'Your choices are: One. Recognise that there is another child out there, likely borne of your sister. This child is no more yours than Ruby or Scarlett. So you recognise that fact, reconcile within yourself that you will play no role in their life and wish them well. We have seen nothing to make us believe that Clava or Auckland would harm a child. Two. Try to track down this third child, and, assuming he or she exists, leave your family here again. Then you need to work out what relationship you want with that child. Three. We ask Clava outright, although given that we just destroyed one of their facilities and the remaining two embryos, I really don't think that is a viable option.'
'Likely not.'
'I guess the real question is, how much do you want this? You will always wonder. But do you want to leave your children a second time?'
'No.' The word came out before I had even consciously thought it. 'No. I never want to leave them again. Di said Xanthe had nightmares for weeks after we left. One of the children at Garynahine told her about Laetitia. She spent the entire time we were gone thinking that would happen to me and she would never see me again. I couldn't do that to her, or Louis. He fretted the entire time. No, I couldn't put them through that again.'
'Well, there is your answer. But do you want us to find out what we can? It might not be much, or anything at all. But we can try.'
'I would like that. I need closure. For Kat's sake.'
'Consider it done.'
Picking things up and slamming them down, I was irrationally angry. After this morning's surgeries, I was supposed to be sterilising equipment, but a dead weight was burning in my chest, refusing to be dislodged. Dropping the scalpels and forceps in the bucket of steaming water, the clanging echoed around the room as scalpels and other tools bounced from the metal surface.
Cam stood in the doorway, watching me cautiously.
'Are you okay?'
'Fine,' I snapped as the surgical scissors clanged in the metal bucket.
Cam paused hesitantly, then stepped inside, closing and barring the door behind him. I barely noticed him, unable to overcome the overwhelming need to destroy something. Tear it apart with my bare hands. Smash something. I slammed my hand down on the cold stainless-steel surgery table, trying to suppress the urge to explode.
'What is it?'
I had woken feeling tired and cranky, snapping at the kids for minor things, and unable to eat. As the day had progressed, my mood had worsened. The solid mass growing in my chest was gnawing at me. My jaw clenched, and I had a headache forming, a dull throbbing behind my right eye.
'Tell me.' Cam was beside me, his large warm hand on my arm. I shook it off like an annoying fly.
Cam had learned from our earlier marriage not to touch me when I was angry. He retreated to a safe distance and watched. Unable to communicate my feelings, the heat was boiling me from the inside, choking me, blocking the words. Cam stood back and watched as I threw things.
'Your sister?'
Turning off the boiling pot, I turned, glaring. 'No.'
'What is it then?'
'Stop bloody interfering! I'm fine.'
Cam maintained his calm expression. 'Jorja?'
My eyes narrowed to slits at the name as I hissed, 'I don't want to talk about it.'
Cam nodded slowly. 'Illy told me she knew all along.'
I rounded on him. 'I can't believe they kept this from me. They knew she was there. She saw her. They could have helped her at any point in the years they knew she was being held there. They let us go all that way without preparing me for what I would find. Then she finally tells me that there is another child of hers out there, somewhere. And she knew! She always knew! But that isn't the worst part. My own family did that to her. They are responsible for this. They subjected her to that degrading life. Slashing her open, abusing her. Handling her like she was a piece of meat!' I was blathering and didn't care. I slammed my hand down on the table again for emphasis, the pain reverberating up my arm.
'Your parents couldn't have known what they planned to do to her.'
'Does it matter?' I fired back, shards of ice piercing him with my words. 'They signed her up for medical research. She was their daughter, and they handed her over like a steak at a barbeque. They didn't give her a second thought when they admitted her to the nursing home. They just kept living their precious lives. They couldn't possibly let a simple matter like their daughter being comatose impact their all-important social calendar.'
'You don't know that. They may not have shown their feelings to you, but they would have been distraught at losing their daughter in that way.'
'You never met them,' I pointed out angrily. 'When I told Mum I was leaving forever, I had to ask her to come home and say goodbye. Beg her is probably more accurate. Do you know what she said? "You are an adult Freyja." I was barely twenty-two. Dad didn't even bother leaving his precious conference, not even for a day. He was a few hours away by plane, and he didn't even bother coming back. I meant nothing to them. You are assuming all families were perfect, like yours!'
'Maybe,' Cam replied, not taking the bait. 'But they may have been misled too. Think about it. The world is ending; everyone is dying. Your older daughter is gone, but at least you know she is safe. We know from Sorcha that life after we left was nothing like we had ever experienced. Maybe they thought the scientific purposes were to help save people from the pandemic? Could they even have thought that she could save people like you?'
I didn't want to consider this. They had signed the consent forms, made her a lab rat.
'No! Someone is responsible, and it is them. Without them signing those forms, this would never have happened!'
'You know how persuasive the government teams were,' Cam continued in his low, calm voice. 'Your parents were practical, logical people, weren't they? If they thought Katrin's life might save others, they would have agreed, wouldn't they?'
'Maybe,' I growled. 'They believed in organ donation. They would have seen it as being for the greater good.'
'Perhaps it was? Scarlett, Ruby. They wouldn't exist if it weren't for Katrin.'
Fury exploded within me at the mention of my sister's children, and the simmering volcano erupted.
'They exploited her! For years, they abused her. I cannot, will not believe it was for the greater good. It is my fault too! I could have made sure she was safe before I left. I didn't. I had time. I arrived at the facility in Melbourne early. I should have spent that time ensuring she was safe. Safe from them!'
Cam fell silent. I knew what he was trying to do. Make me forgive my parents. But I couldn't. I wasn't ready to forgive. They had sacrificed my sister—she who I had loved above all others.
'I will never, ever forgive them,' I seethed, my skin alight. 'Who knows what those lab techs might have done to her? Alone and paralysed. Abused her? Raped her? I know from the scars on her stomach they cut her open more than once. No. I don't care if they are gone. They are not my family.'
Even through the flames consuming me, I could sense Cam's disagreement, but he wasn't prepared to argue with me.
'What? You think I am cold because I refuse to forgive my parents? You have always thought I was a cold, heartless bitch, haven't you!' I shoved him hard in the chest, my face flaming, rage consuming me.
Cam didn't react, just stood solidly, watching me. 'They are still your family. No matter what they did.'
'No!' I hit him again. 'Those monsters are no relations of mine!'
He caught my arms as they struck at him a third time, folded them in and held them against his chest.
'They are your parents, Frey. They did what they thought was best.'
'You are a mindless fucking idiot! You know nothing! They may as well have done this to her themselves! Tied her to that bed and abused her! Hacked her up and used her for spare parts!' The red beast had taken hold and wasn't letting go. I fought him to release my arms, thrashing and kicking.
Cam pushed my back hard against the single brick wall of the shed, pinning me in place. His mouth found mine and kissed me hard, stealing my breath.
No. I squirmed and tried to push him off me. Anger still had the upper hand. The rough bricks gouged my back, but he was larger and stronger. I was engulfed by his body, trapped between him and the wall, and fought to get away. No. Not now, my brain raged.
Yes, now! My body responded as my heart began to beat faster, and the tightness around my chest loosened just a little. His body pinned mine to the wall, his hands were on my breasts now, and my temperature cooled slightly as he lifted my top over my head and dropped it on the dusty floor. His lips were demanding, and mine responded without my brain wanting them to. He picked me up effortlessly with one arm around my waist, still thrashing, and sat me on the surgery table. I felt my jeans loosen, sliding down my legs, his lips not relenting in their passion. As he laid me over the table, I felt the cool air hit my legs, the icy surface making me convulse. I sucked in my breath as he touched me. I wasn't fighting him anymore. Now I had a new goal. He was teasing me: touching, stroking, caressing. Fury rose in me once more as his fingers played with me.
'Fucking do it now,' I demanded, sitting up and slapping his hand away. He grinned.
'No.'
A soft growl escaped my lips, taking him by surprise, but he ignored me. Continuing to play with me, the frustration in me continued to rise.
'Now!' I ordered. I wanted him, or I would tear him apart. Either were entirely feasible options.
'Not… yet.'
All the air went out of me as the warmth of pleasure rose and overtook the anger.
'Please…' I begged, and I felt the half-grin quirk his mouth.
He was within me before I could think, and I was complete. No longer was emotion controlling me. Now it was desire, passion, and overwhelming love for him that drove me. And drive me he did. I forgot everything else as I focused on the sensation of togetherness. Fury had propelled me first, but now the heat of desire overrode everything else.
'I needed that.' I nibbled his ear. Curled up in the corner, old blankets under and over us, we lay on the straw in each other's arms. I felt as safe and protected as I had the first time.
'If all of these wonderful years with you have taught me nothing, my beautiful, hot-headed wife, it is never to argue with you when you are in a temper.'
'I'm so sorry for being awful to you.'
'It was the anger talking. It is okay.'
'No, it isn't. All those years I spent alone, I replayed every argument we had. I beat myself up a thousand times for each harsh word I said to you. If only I had known what would happen, I would never have spoken to you in anger. So many nights when I was alone, all I could think about was that was how you remembered me and our time together. Angry. Difficult.'
'I never thought of those times. I only remembered the wonderful moments we spent together. At the springs… at home… in bed.' He punctuated this last comment with a hand sneaking around my bottom. 'Even just curled up on the couch, reading or talking. I regretted none of it. I just knew how fortunate I was to have you, even for the short time we had. I think we needed that time on August, to love and to learn. So, we could have this time.'
'Happy?' I asked cautiously, my bitter words of the past hour still lingering overhead.
'Deliriously so. Every day I wake beside you, I thank whatever deity brought you into my life. Twice.' He kissed me gently as my hands explored his broad, muscular chest and worked their way down the flat expanse of stomach to his hips. 'Come on, the kids will be home from school soon and will come looking for us.'
'They can wait. Besides, the door is locked.'
Assessing the time from the sun's position midway down the sky, I finished inserting the last stitches in the lamb's leg, grumbling to myself, 'Tell me again why I am doing this?'
Because your daughter adores this frigging lamb and you can't bear to make her sad by telling her you cooked it up for supper, was the honest answer. Animals here were livestock, not pets. But Lambie was to Xanthe what Fred had been to me. She adored this motherless lamb, and Lambie followed her around like a dog. Many a night, I had found Lambie hidden in Xan's room, curled up on a blanket. This time, Lambie had cut her leg on a fence trying to get to Xanthe while she was at school. Xanthe had been distraught, tears streaming down her face until Di had carried Lambie to me. Fortunately, I was home. It was a nasty wound. I knew Xan was lurking outside, waiting. Despite my frustration, part of me knew how she felt. Poor Fred. Even after all these years, I still missed him. He had been responsible for finding the cave with the antipodean portal, but also for me falling through it. He didn't deserve the end he got. I hadn't met a goat since with Fred's personality.
I grimaced at the time I was wasting, the burden of other urgent tasks needling me, but finished cleaning up. Stitching was slow and messy work. Wondering how we would manage Lambie when she grew into a fully grown sheep, I lifted my head as shouts in the distance entered the shed and echoed around the walls. I strained to hear the words. It was a fe
male voice.
'Sorcha! Cam! Is anyone here?'
The vet clinic door faced the opposite direction, where I could see the children playing in the yard between our homes, but not down the valley.
'Louis!' I called, glimpsing his brown hair outside. 'Who is that?'
He popped his head in the door. 'It's Bridget,' he hissed, fear in his eyes.
To Louis, these women were still people from out there. No matter how many times we told him that Illy, Cam and I were also from out there, he remained fearful. I couldn't blame him. Perhaps he had picked up on my reticence, I thought, making a mental note to be friendlier to them in front of him.
Finishing off, I checked on her one more time before placing Lambie in the pen to sleep off the anaesthesia and washed my hands. As I stepped outside, I saw the relief in Bridget's eyes as she came into view.
'Thank goodness you are here!' she exclaimed as she assisted Jorja up the dirt path. Jorja was as white as a ghost and hopping on one leg, each movement making her look like she was going to vomit or faint. Their girls were bringing up the rear, huddled together. Every time I saw them, I had flashes of my own girls and needed to look away.
'What's up?' I asked, dropping the hand towel.
'Jorj slipped and fell down the back steps. She has broken her leg. I can see the bone poking through the skin.' Bridget looked rather unwell as she described the wound. I had pegged her as the faint at the sight of blood type when we first met.
'Why didn't you just call us? One of us would have come to you.'
Bridget's face dropped. 'The radio slipped out of my hand. I was washing dishes as Jorja fell and screamed. I picked it up, and it smashed on the flagstones. We only have the one, and the girls were too scared to come and get one of you, so we had to walk.'